


catharsis

by cursivelights



Category: True Beauty - Yaongyi (Webcomic), 여신강림 | True Beauty (Korea TV)
Genre: Banter, Boys Being Boys, Canon-Typical Violence, First Kiss, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Teasing, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28822215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cursivelights/pseuds/cursivelights
Summary: Suho sneers, swiping a leg to trip Seojun over, and scuffles with him until he has him pinned down by the wrists, legs astride his hips. Seojun glares up at him. “That wasn’t fair,” he growls breathlessly.Suho’s lips don’t smile but his eyes do. “We never set any rules,” he counters.(suho and seojun fight, but make it gay.)
Relationships: Seojun Han/Suho Lee
Comments: 36
Kudos: 538





	catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> look,,,,,,,,,,,,if we dont get a seojun/suho training scene whats the point?

“You still fight like a baby.”  
  
Suho rears around, surprise clear on his features when he catches sight of Seojun, standing at the doorway coolly with his thumbs hooked into the front pockets of his jeans. Seojun leans against the doorjamb, smirk small and sardonic on his lips.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Suho asks, tightening his belt around his waist.  
  
Seojun cocks a brow, shouldering himself off the doorjamb. “This place used to be purgative,” he answers. “After the accident, remember?”  
  
Suho _does_ remember. He remembers forcing Seojun to deal with shit healthily and dragging him to this place to teach him the basics while mocking Seyeon for being _famous_ and _too busy and cool for them._  
  
But that was a long time ago. This is now and it’s Suho’s safe place. The only way he can let off steam without getting worked up a second later. So. Yeah. Seojun’s presence is doing absolutely nothing to help him right now.  
  
“I saw your dad outside.”  
  
Suho whips his head up to glare at him. Makes Seojun whistle lowly with his hands raised at his sides in surrender.  
  
“Go,” Suho orders. “I’m busy.”  
  
“Scared I’ll beat you?” Seojun tilts his head, lips parted slightly in that demeaning way of his that usually has Suho’s jaw clenching with barely inhibited frustration.  
  
“You punched me once,” Suho says calmly. “I didn’t get even because I didn’t want to stoop down to your level. Don’t get cocky.”  
  
A grin etches across Seojun’s face as he reaches up to pull his leather jacket off. Suho watches him toe his shoes off before stepping into his space. “Don’t hold back.”  
  
Suho barely has the time to register the words before Seojun’s pulling his fist back, ready to pack a punch. He dodges the hit just under the wire.  
  
He steps back. So does Seojun, assuming the position Suho spent half an hour teaching him.  
  
Thing is, Suho doesn’t _want_ to fight. So he sticks to parrying the blows Seojun’s delivering. Which only makes Seojun more frustrated. “Yah! We’re supposed to be fighting!”  
  
Suho blinks at him blankly. “I don’t want to fight.”  
  
Seojun looks away with an irked tut. “Aish. You’re no fun,” he mutters. Waits a beat, two, then he’s throwing a punch and Suho’s ducking out of the way.  
  
Seojun doesn’t let up. Not until Suho grabs his fist and twists it behind his back, making Seojun turn with a pained expression. Suho holds back a smile. “Give up?” he asks quietly.  
  
Seojun nods, defeated and sly. And the moment Suho lets go of him, he elbows him in the stomach, making Suho stumble back with a pained groan. Seojun stands upright and advances towards him.  
  
“Foul play,” Suho grits out.  
  
Seojun leans down the inch he has on Suho and smiles charmingly. “We never set any rules,” he quips.  
  
It earns him a punch, solid and lightning-fast. He staggers back, lifting a hand to run the tip of a ringed finger over the trickle of blood coming from his nostril. “Not bad,” he comments, wiping his sleeve over his nose. “I guess we’re even.”  
  
_So that’s what he wanted,_ Suho thinks, _to clear his conscience._  
  
He sneers, swiping a leg to trip Seojun over, and scuffles with him until he has him pinned down by the wrists, legs astride his hips. Seojun glares up at him. “That wasn’t fair,” he growls breathlessly.  
  
Suho’s lips don’t smile but his eyes do. “We never set any rules,” he counters.  
  
It takes him a moment to notice the intimacy of their position. And once he does, something coils hot in his gut. He swallows, loosening his grip on Seojun’s wrists before letting go completely and sitting upright. He clears his throat, opening his mouth to apologize.  
  
His breath’s knocked out of him when Seojun rolls them over, switching positions to get Suho under him, forearms bracketing his head. Suho grunts, but otherwise says nothing as he eases his eyes open to look up at Seojun, blood smeared on his upper lip and hair a mess. The chain of his earring’s swaying slowly and it takes everything in Suho not to reach up and bring it to a stop.  
  
Seojun looks… He looks _good_.  
  
The realization makes Suho breathe out shakily from his lips, stomach in knots and eyes flittering over Seojun’s features until they snag on his eyes. His pupils are big. Suho remembers studying the sympathetic nervous system. Mydriasis being an upshot of a chemical boost of hormones, usually caused by fear or attraction. Seojun isn't a timorous guy, so.  
  
Suho swallows, watching as the black in Seojun’s eyes guzzles the brown until it’s only a razor-thin line bordering his desire. They flicker down to Suho’s lips briefly.  
  
“Foul play,” Suho whispers, scrambling to break the silence in a last-ditch effort to have _some_ control over the situation.  
  
Seojun blinks at him in that infuriatingly ennui way of his. Then he bends down until their noses are touching and they’re breathing the same electrified, hot air. “We never set any rules,” he whispers, voice throaty and soft.  
  
And that’s it. Game over.  
  
Suho meets him halfway, kisses him deep and slow. Seojun kisses the way he fights, rough and intimate and with enough skill to have Suho grappling for air. He licks into Suho’s mouth, balancing himself on one arm and using the other to gingerly cup his jaw. Keeps giving.  
  
Suho’s not used to taking without giving. He draws back with a slick sound and looks away, jaw clenching under Seojun’s touch. The rings adorning his fingers are cold and grounding against Suho’s skin.  
  
Seojun coaxes him into looking at him, frowning when he sees that Suho’s eyes are glazed over with tears. “Did I hurt you?” he rushes out with, moving back to inspect Suho’s face and person for any injuries.  
  
“I’m okay,” Suho murmurs as he sits up. “Told you not to get cocky.”  
  
Seojun clears his throat and stands up. He licks over his mouth, like he’s chasing after the taste of Suho’s lips. “Gowoon’s… Waiting for me. I should,” he says, scratching behind his ear awkwardly.  
  
He all but runs to the door, stopping when Suho calls his name.  
  
“What?” he snaps, playing aloof again as he turns to look at him. Suho’s hands are flat on the training mat, holding him up. A smile gentle on his lips, the ghost of it lingering in his eyes as he looks at Seojun. It makes him soften, makes the tenseness in his shoulders loosen and his own lips curve into a smile too. “What?” he repeats, calmer this time.  
  
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”


End file.
